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Literature Text
December girl:
the snowflakes glittering
in your wind-blown hair
are nothing
to the icicles
in your eyes.
the snowflakes glittering
in your wind-blown hair
are nothing
to the icicles
in your eyes.
Literature
~
our eyes were fogged with farewells marking territories down our cheeks.
the ache felt like smoke at the edge of my throat and i was afraid
to say it loud before you said the ocean kissed your taste buds. we just knew.
maps tore apart and our paper walls built with just enough faith to last three decades broke.
it's been too long since we've been hurt with the blue of the sky and you are not the ache in my bones –
you're the crusts between my fingers when i tried to let the sun make me feel less alone.
you’re the clicking of knuckles i feel inside
and the fishhooks fumbling to pull out some pride
from arching, collapsing
(deep
Literature
on unlearning how to die
the space between intention and
inaction has been redefined. they say
the first step to sadness is
to be happy. the second step
is learning loss. they tell us
depression is an abundance of emotions
but everyone here is a balloon
deflated with time, a sun
dimming as years eat away years
and everything changes but
nothing's really different at all.
we drowned before we even saw
the sea, dreaming of that cemetery
a million miles deep; and still,
I cry for the people worth forgetting:
the girl who couldn't take enough
sleeping pills to live her dreams,
the boy so doped out on an inability
to live that he told us about his trips
to Jupiter and
Literature
baby blue
& the sea still speaks
slipping whispers with indigo lips
swelling waves dip dyed
baby blue
breathing in; out and in
seaweed limbs milky
as our ways carry me
staring at me softly
& oh my sea dreamer
eyes made of linen’s silk
(but men of bone)
heart rustled with chaos
& all in between
spread to my touch
kissing me
baby blue
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Beautifully chilly. 